


Can't Seem to Unremind Myself

by larkscape



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Shower Sex, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkscape/pseuds/larkscape
Summary: Guang-Hong pulled a face, adorably frustrated at being one-upped again, and it was just like all the other times Guang-Hong made adorable faces that hurt Leo’s chest to look at, except now Leo knew what Guang-Hong sounded like when he thought he was alone.If only one of them knew it was a date, did it still count as a date? No, probably not.Leo had a crush on Guang-Hong. Leo had no clue how to deal with the fact that he overheard Guang-Hong saying his name while jerking off.





	Can't Seem to Unremind Myself

**Author's Note:**

> While there is a world-class ice hall in Colorado Springs used for high-level sports training (the Broadmoor World Arena), the facility where this story takes place is fictitious. Paris Crepe, however, is a real restaurant and, according to the reviews, serves food both delicious and reasonably priced.
> 
> Title from Soul Coughing’s ‘Soundtrack To Mary,’ a song that has precisely nothing to do with the story aside from the fact that it contains the line ‘I know the sound that you made and I can’t seem to unremind myself,’ which is basically the plot.

 

A tiny moan broke the silence, breathy but not quiet enough.

Leo, lying awake, stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and considered the possibility that one of his dormmates was jerking off. Not that he had any room to criticize, though he usually restrained himself to stolen moments in the shower and guilty thoughts of a certain freckled skater currently sleeping on the bunk below. He didn’t want to impose, not when Guang-Hong had come all the way to Colorado Springs for this training camp at his invitation, but sometimes he wished…

It didn’t matter what he wished; it was all fantasy anyway. Guang-Hong’s greatest love was crepes, not Mexican-American boys who felt too much.

Someone’s breath caught. There was just enough moonlight to check the other beds, but both Phichit and Minami were sleeping. Minami snorted and flopped an arm over the edge of his bunk as Leo watched.

Which left Guang-Hong. Leo swallowed.

He heard blankets shifting and the bed frame shivered, rhythmic. The motion traveled into his bones. He knew exactly what he’d be picturing when he showered in the morning.

“Leo, please,” Guang-Hong whispered, and Leo’s heart leaped in his chest.

...Maybe they could share the shower.

 

By the following morning, Leo had lost all nerve to mention what he’d heard.

All day, he kept a surreptitious eye on Guang-Hong, watching him in the spaces between three-jump combo drills and workshops about arm position in spin sequences, averting his gaze whenever Guang-Hong looked over at him. Lunch was a torment. Guang-Hong sat with him just as he had every day since the beginning of the training camp, but Leo could barely keep track of the conversation, too distracted by the memory of Guang-Hong whispering his name in the darkness.

Did Leo imagine last night, or misinterpret? He’d been so sure at the time, but in the light of day there was nothing to say he hadn’t mistaken a nightmare or something for Guang-Hong jerking off over him. Or maybe Guang-Hong hadn’t said _his_ name at all. Maybe it was just a nonsense sound. Or… Leo searched his memories. Had Guang-Hong ever mentioned a Leah?

He suffered a sudden and retroactive dislike of every Leah he’d ever met — his coach Leah from the two years he spent training in Chicago, that one fan xLeLeLeah who spammed the comments on all Guang-Hong’s Instagram posts, even the girl in Leo’s kindergarten class who’d shared her cheese and crackers with him.

Leo was losing his mind. God, he had it _bad,_ didn’t he?

“...eo? Leo? Are you okay?”

Guang-Hong’s voice scattered Leo’s jealous thoughts. He shook his head. “Sorry, uh— I spaced out for a moment. What were you saying?”

“I was saying we should go into the city tonight.” Guang-Hong brandished his phone. “According to Yelp, there’s a great crepe restaurant downtown and I want to try it!”

Leo’s heart misfired at Guang-Hong’s brilliant grin, but he returned the smile. “That sounds tailor-made for you. Sure, let’s check it out.”

 

The afternoon passed in a fog of mingled excitement and dread. Leo was going out for crepes with Guang-Hong, just the two of them — and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted it to be a _proper date_ and all the reasons it couldn’t be. Most of which boiled down to the fact that Guang-Hong didn’t think of him like that. Except, if he really had said Leo’s name while—

Leo was going in circles. Something had to change.

“Hey, Guang-Hong,” he asked, leaning over the edge of his bunk and looking down at where Guang-Hong sprawled on his belly in the blankets, scrolling through his Twitter feed. “What time do you want to go to the crepe place?”

“Leo. Crepe time is _always._ Can we go now?”

He was too cute. Leo didn’t know how he’d manage to sit at a tiny restaurant table, seeing Guang-Hong’s freckles from far too close, and not lean across to kiss him. It was so much easier to refrain with an ocean between them, and when he thought there was no way his feelings might be reciprocated. Hope made him irrational.

“Just let me order an Uber and we’ll head out.”

 

Guang-Hong insisted on posting a selfie with Leo and their Uber driver during the ride downtown, and tagged Phichit — the next skirmish in their eternal SNS war. Just as they arrived at the restaurant, Phichit’s response appeared: Minami in a sloppy handstand while Phichit held score cards marked with base value and GOE. Leo laughed. Guang-Hong pulled a face, adorably frustrated at being one-upped again, and it was just like all the other times Guang-Hong made adorable faces that hurt Leo’s chest to look at, except now Leo knew what Guang-Hong sounded like when he thought he was alone.

If only one of them knew it was a date, did it still count as a date? No, probably not.

The sun was still well above the horizon as they climbed from the car and stood on the sidewalk. Summer in Colorado Springs brought long evenings full of syrupy sunlight that turned Guang-Hong’s brown hair to burnished gold. Even his exaggerated pout was beautiful.

“I can’t believe Phichit,” Guang-Hong said. “So unfair. I was in a cab! I didn’t have props ready!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to get back at him later. I’ll help if you want.”

Guang-Hong smiled at him, and then his attention was caught by the red letters spelling out ‘Paris Crepe’ above the patio overhang and his face blossomed with happiness.

“Did we find your paradise?” Leo asked teasingly.

“Gosh, it smells amazing. Hey, Leo, smile!” Guang-Hong wrapped an arm around Leo’s shoulders, angling his phone for another selfie. “Leo and crepes, two of my favorite things. Wait. Can you do a handstand?”

“I can do one better,” Leo said, grinning. Being listed among Guang-Hong’s favorite things filled his chest with bubbles. “Switch to video. Let’s see Phichit top this.” He vaulted onto his hands and walked along the sidewalk from one end of the patio to the other, earning scattered applause from the diners and Guang-Hong’s delighted laughter.

“That’s perfect!” Guang-Hong said when Leo flipped upright. “Come here, look.” As soon as Leo got close enough, Guang-Hong reeled him in by the waist and held his phone up for Leo to see.

Leo wasn’t looking at the phone. Leo was looking at Guang-Hong, at the scattering of freckles across his nose, the way his eyes lit up with joy, the fall of hair across his forehead. He was so warm against Leo’s side. Leo desperately wanted to kiss him.

He had to say something. If he didn’t, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

“Hey, Guang-Hong.”

“Yeah?” Guang-Hong looked up at him questioningly. “What is it?”

“Look, I, um.” Now or never. Leo gathered up his courage and—

—didn’t say it. There were too many people, he wanted to enjoy a meal with Guang-Hong before possibly ruining the night or their entire friendship, and... and he was a total coward. He offered his arm to Guang-Hong.

“May I buy you a crepe?”

“You may buy me _three_ crepes,” Guang-Hong said magnanimously.

 

“I was joking,” Guang-Hong said as they strolled along the path from parking lot to dorms. “You didn’t need to pay for me. But thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Leo replied, and it was. Leo would do a lot more than just pay for crepes to see Guang-Hong that happy. He should say it, confess what he’d heard last night, what he hoped for. Now was the perfect moment: alone together, the sunset fading out behind them.

“I’m just glad you came all the way out here for this camp,” he said instead, mentally kicking himself. “I know the pre-season schedule gets pretty hectic.”

“No way would I miss a chance to hang out with you!” Guang-Hong said, beaming. “And my choreographer’s still changing my short program, so this was the perfect time. Speaking of, do you have your music yet?”

“I’ve got a couple ideas, but I’m waiting until after the camp to really start working on my programs. I want to incorporate what I’m learning.”

“It’s so cool that you do your own choreography.” Guang-Hong’s eyes shone with admiration in the waning light.

Leo blushed. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” The brush of Guang-Hong's hand on Leo's was shockingly warm.

 

The longer it went, the more certain Leo grew that he had misheard. By Friday morning, he was positive that Guang-Hong was just releasing stress, fixating on whoever was near. Guang-Hong had never given any indication that he might be interested in Leo before, so what Leo had heard on Tuesday night must have been a fluke. Not that it helped him to put it from his mind.

He felt weirdly guilty holding this one-sided knowledge of Guang-Hong’s inner life, but his morning showers now featured a running soundtrack of Guang-Hong’s quiet whispers, the breathy sounds amplified in Leo’s mind in both volume and significance, which invariably required him to wrap a hand around his stubborn hard-on and stroke until his release spattered the tile. He kept his phone on the bench just outside the curtain and played his collection of potential program music to cover any noises he might make.

If anyone asked, he’d say he was trying to decide on his short program song — a truthful cover story which unfortunately wouldn’t extend to the times he whimpered Guang-Hong’s name through bitten lips.

That evening, the two of them went out for sushi.

“It’s your favorite, right?” Guang-Hong asked, checking Yelp reviews. “My treat this time.”

Which was fine, except that on Sunday, their one day free of training, Guang-Hong found a steakhouse he wanted to try and insisted on paying there, too. And again on Tuesday at the Italian bistro Leo suggested.

If Leo couldn’t flirt over the table, or get a goodnight kiss, or any other typical date things, then he’d at least like to pay for dinner sometimes. He bought Guang-Hong souvenir T-shirts from tourist-trap gift shops, instead, so he’d have something physical to remind him of the trip. Leo didn’t need a T-shirt for himself. He knew he’d never again be able to walk downtown without thinking of Guang-Hong’s laugh.

They didn’t go back into the city the rest of that week, but when Minami asked for restaurant recommendations on Sunday, Leo mentioned Paris Crepe and Guang-Hong lit up.

“Did you want to go again?” Leo asked. Guang-Hong nodded, smiling softly.

Seated in the Paris Crepe patio, Guang-Hong made little appreciative noises as he ate — sounds that left Leo hopelessly flustered and distracted, food long forgotten. He couldn’t help imagining Guang-Hong making the same noises when Leo touched him.

Leo missed paying that time, too.

 

Just like that, only a week remained.

Phichit spent a large chunk of his free time buttering up Coach Janet, trying to get her to come back to Bangkok with him for more one-on-one training. Minami had vastly improved his triple axel and, on their last Monday together, finally nailed the quad salchow he’d been working toward.

Everyone else was achieving their dreams. Leo should do the same.

He needed to talk to Guang-Hong. He was tired of his own anxious waffling. Time was running out; in five days, Guang-Hong would be on a plane to Beijing and Leo wouldn’t see him in person again until, if they were lucky, one of the GPF qualifying events. Leo couldn’t let him leave without knowing how he felt. He needed to confess his heart-pounding feelings face to face, not over video chat.

Maybe, somehow, Guang-Hong felt the same way about him, but Leo would never know if he didn’t ask. The question was: what should he say?

Leo’s pre-competition ‘LET’S GO!!!’ playlist was full of music that never failed to stoke his courage. He kept it loud in his headphones all afternoon as he worked through spin drills and considered his options.

 

Leo pulled Guang-Hong aside on the path back to the dorms after the afternoon session. The driving basslines had done all they could; from here out Leo had to rely on his own bravery.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as tense as he felt.

“Sure,” Guang-Hong said, cheerful.

Leo kept his gaze on where he held Guang-Hong’s hand in both of his own. His pulse drummed in his ears, in his throat. “There's something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m just… not sure how to say it.”

When Leo risked a glance up, Guang-Hong was watching him, head tilted in curiosity. He would understand, Leo told himself. Guang-Hong was his friend, first and foremost, and whatever happened in the next few minutes, that wouldn’t change. Leo’s stomach roiled anyway.

He scrunched his eyes closed, drew a fortifying breath, and took the jump.

“I like you, Guang-Hong. I mean, I… really like you.”

Silence. He opened his eyes, slowly, one at a time, half-expecting to be shoved away.

“Oh my god, _finally!”_ Guang-Hong burst out. He grinned at Leo, bright and open, and Leo felt suddenly like someone had replaced all his bones with helium. He might float off.

Guang-Hong threw his arms around Leo’s waist, and it was… _Nice_ didn’t even begin to cover it. Having Guang-Hong’s arms around him was like how Leo imagined he might feel skydiving, or cuddling a polar bear, or being the first to land a quad axel — vulnerable, defenseless in the claws of something powerful, but also like he’d just achieved the impossible. He rested his head on top of Guang-Hong’s and let the warmth flood through him as Guang-Hong’s fingers clenched in the back of his shirt.

“You are so oblivious, Leo,” Guang-Hong said to his shoulder, long moments later.

“What do you mean, oblivious?” Leo couldn’t stop smiling. He’d confessed and Guang-Hong was hugging him and Leo had lost track of the ground. “I’m not oblivious.”

“You’re completely oblivious! How many times have I taken you out to dinner now? And you never once tried to kiss me!” Guang-Hong pulled back just enough to look up at Leo with a fetching pout. “I was very disappointed.”

Leo wasn’t sure he was in reality anymore. “What— how did—”

“Leo. You’re not subtle.”

“Took _me_ out— you did it on purpose! I _thought_ it was weird how the server at Paris Crepe went straight to you with the check.” Leo almost wanted to be mad, but he was too giddy with relief and affection to manage it. “Guang-Hong, you sneaky— I should have seen that coming.”

“You have a lot of kisses to catch up on, mister.” Guang-Hong looked at him, face pink under his freckles, utterly charming. “You should get started.”

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Leo teased gently, tilting their foreheads together.

“What, that I like you, too? Isn’t it obvious?”

“I have it on good authority that I’m oblivious, so I think you’d better spell it out.”

Guang-Hong smiled and brushed his hair back. Even his fingernails were cute.

“I like you, Leo. I like you a lot, and I really want you to kiss me.”

Leo lifted a hand and cupped Guang-Hong’s cheek, tilting his face up. “I think I can manage that.”

A moment passed in which Leo stood captivated by the brown of Guang-Hong's eyes, his lungs compressed under the rising swell of anticipation in his chest. He brought his other hand up to frame Guang-Hong's face and his gaze dropped to where Guang-Hong's lips parted, ready. His heart drummed in his throat. Their noses brushed together and Leo’s eyes fell closed as he leaned in.

Guang-Hong’s lips were warm and a bit chapped from spending so much time in the cold, dry air of the rink and they were all Leo could feel. Everything else faded to unimportance in light of Guang-Hong’s mouth on his.

Happiness brimmed in Leo. He could kiss Guang-Hong forever.

When they finally separated, Guang-Hong looked at him sweetly and asked, “What finally made you make a move? Was it all the dates? Tell me it was.”

“Dates? No, um, it was— I heard—” Leo flushed. Now he had to admit to his accidental voyeurism. “In the dorm last week, in the middle of the night, I heard you—” This shouldn’t be so hard to say. He sucked in a breath and tried again. “You, uh, you said my name. While you were… You know.”

“I said… oh. Oh, _no.”_ Guang-Hong let out a pained groan. He’d always colored easily, but Leo had never seen him turn so dark a red as he did in the brief moment before he hid in his hands. At least Leo wasn’t the only one having trouble. “You _heard_ that? So _embarrassing._ I can’t believe—”

“No!” Leo caught Guang-Hong’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away from his face but implying that he might like to. “Guang-Hong, please, don’t be embarrassed. Hearing that was what made me think I might have a chance at all. It’s just been… very distracting since then.”

“Oh?” Guang-Hong peeked out from between his fingers, and he smiled when he caught sight of Leo’s discomfited expression. “How distracting?”

“Do I have to answer that?” Leo groaned, pressing his face into Guang-Hong’s hair. Guang-Hong laughed and pulled him close again.

 

Leo kept a catalogue in his memory of all Guang-Hong’s expressions. This one was his new favorite: Guang-Hong leaning against the shower tiles, mouth open, a lovely shade of pink blooming across his cheeks and down his chest as Leo used teeth to summon a mark on the skin of his neck.

“Leo,” Guang-Hong said, and then he made a breathy little noise just like the ones he'd made that night in the dorm, except this noise was a thousand times better because Leo was the one wringing it from him. Leo clasped one arm around Guang-Hong's back, wet with shower spray, then tugged. Their hips shifted. Leo had to stifle his own noise in Guang-Hong's shoulder. Guang-Hong dug hands into the flesh of Leo’s backside, holding him steady against the pressure of Guang-Hong grinding into him.

The slip of Guang-Hong's skin against his own sent tingles through Leo's entire body, hotter than the water raining on them. The drag of their erections threatened to burn right through him.

“My home rink,” Guang-Hong whispered brokenly into Leo’s ear, breathless, “is hosting an intensive next month. _Ah._ You should come.”

Leo did, messily. And the next month he flew to Beijing.

 


End file.
